


moonlit night

by radregeneration



Series: warden nirvana surana [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29243880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radregeneration/pseuds/radregeneration
Summary: nirvana surana discusses her relationships with alistair on a moonlit night.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Surana (Dragon Age), Leliana/Female Surana (Dragon Age)
Series: warden nirvana surana [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2149182





	moonlit night

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from tale of abandonment on a moonlit night, which didn't inspire this in any way. i just have to stuck in my head
> 
> this is a sequel to this work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28436646
> 
> debating posting this or not because nirvana is really mean in it 😔

Nirvana slipped out of the bard's tent, the night air cooling the sweat on her bare skin. She had the decency to slip her tunic and slippers back on before exiting the tent. No need to flash whoever was on watch during the short walk back to her own tent. 

She was satisfied with her time spent with Leliana. It was much easier to relax and take things slow when there was no looming threat of Templars overhearing. If her other companions heard, they would ignore it, possibly joke about the next morning, but it wasn't a crime. And that was something, wasn't it? To have a relationship that wasn't a crime. Nirvana still kept the relationship as professional as possible, as professional as a physical relationship could be. Emotions were dangerous. A small part of her mind told her she wasn't like the others, she couldn't love like that anyways. That was fine, that was safe. 

She shook the thoughts from her head when she realized she hadn't moved from her place in front of the tent. With a huff, she forced her feet to take a step, then another. Almost at her own tent, a hand grabbed her wrist. Her first instinct was to hiss and pull away, to set the hand on fire. Her brain caught up with her, telling her that if she retaliated the Templar would punish her harsher. She had already been caught, no need to make things worse for herself. 

A voice that didn't belong to any Templar at Kinloch interrupted her thoughts, "Sorry, if I, er, startled you, Nir. I wanted to, um, talk." 

"Ali. We're talking," she hissed too harshly, causing the other to flinch, which made her mentally flinch. She carefully withdrew her hand from his hold. She was torn between making herself seem smaller than she already was- he had almost a foot in height over her, at least a hundred pounds as well- or puffing up her chest and standing her ground. "Sorry, you did startle me. I didn't mean to upset you." 

"You didn't! Um, it's fine, you're fine," Alistair babbled, as he shrunk back and held his hands to his chest. Seeing the larger man behave like her instincts told her to surprised her. She made a mentally note to avoid harsh tones around him. "It's a nice night for a walk?" 

"Do you want to go on a walk?" She had learned that he avoided directly asking for things, that it was better to ask for him. She was used to making suggestions to get her way, but being the appointed leader of the surviving Wardens had made her more direct. 

"If you want to," he mumbled. 

She nodded. A chilly breeze made her shiver. Alistair didn't notice the breeze as he wore a tunic, breeches, boots, and a fur thrown over his shoulders. "Let me put on more clothes first." 

He stood vigil while she slipped into her tent, his back to the flap. Nirvana knew he was most likely staring at something like a tree like it could spontaneously turn into darkspawn, anything to avoid an accidental glimpse of nudity. Chantry teaching and all, she understood. Once she was dressed warmly and she strapped her staff to her back, they began their patrol. 

It was enjoyable enough. Alistair's company was pleasant. He was genuinely sweet, easily embarrassed by her blatant flirting, completely oblivious to her subtle flirting, and he even complimented her on occasion. His interest in her seemed more invested than Leliana or Zevran's. A bit worrying since she couldn't reciprocate. 

"So, you're, er, training with Leliana?" 

"Yes," she replied hesitantly, unsure if he was referring to the actual training that afternoon or the activities that night. He couldn't have been referring to the latter. She aimed for a vague response, "I'm not a natural, but she doesn't want me to give up just yet." 

"Have you considered, um, a sword? Using- I mean, sword fighting, for self defense-" 

"Swordplay," she quickly cut off his ramble. 

"Yes," he turned to hide his face, the reddish splotches coloring his face, neck, the tips of his ears. 

"I haven't." She spared at glance at him. Light brown skin, freckles, the moonlit night casting his face in blue and silver, like a portrait of the Grey Wardens. Classically handsome with his combination of human and elven features, but a bit rugged. Stubble, his nose bent out of shape, two small scars on his eyebrow and chin. Someone she would like to see in bed. 

"I could show you a few things," he replied in a small voice. His voice and mannerisms at times seemed so strange, so small and insecure for a handsome man. 

"I'd like that," she smiled, small, a little too false. She'd like to see whatever Alistair showed her- actual sword or not. 

"If- you, oh, okay. Um, then, are you and Leliana not training anymore?" He stopped walked. 

"I don't see any reason for us to stop," she cocked her head towards him, his expression seemed hurt. She immediately tried to pick up the pieces of something she hadn't even realized she had broken. "Unless, you want us to?" 

"Well, I just wanted to know how, how serious you are about her. About me. And Zevran." 

"I'm not particularly serious about anything that's not sex, if that's what you're asking," she said casually. 

"Oh. So you- this is a game?" His glare scrutinized her. This time she did shrink away, prepared to feel silence wash over her. When it didn't happen, she finally spoke. 

"Not a game. This is just how I am," she took a risk and turned to glare back at him, "I don't. I don't feel like that." 

"Like that?" He was startled. Which was bad if he was a Templar. Which he was, but he wasn't. Alistair was too meek to hurt her, even in self defense. 

"Serious emotions. Love and such." She looked away again, ashamed at the admission. She had tried to keep this to herself. Her party knew she was a mage, but they didn't understand what that meant. Morrigan did, but she showed no interest in Nirvana. Disappointing at first, but Zevran showed her that he had no need for strings like regular people. 

"What? Everyone feels love." He shook his head, expression bewildered. 

"Not mages, we're broken," she tried to explain. He should have understood. She shouldn't have had to explain this to Alistair, of all people. "Not completely whole people, we want sex but we don't have the parts for love. The range of emotions to want love." 

"That's not true. You're not broken, you can love," he said, voice too calm. His comfort uncomfortable. He tried to place a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. "So can any other mage, Morrigan included." 

"Says the Templar," she spat, practically hissed. And he would silence her and that would be it. 

"Nir." His voice was firm, but there were no spells. No fizzle of magic gone, no smell of magebane. 

Too late, Nirvana realized how she was behaving. Cold without need. Alistair only showed her kindness and patience, and she hurt him on purpose and accident. She took a step back, stumbling and almost tripping on a rock, but he caught her with an arm around her waist. She didn't try to escape him this time. Now it was her turn to babble, "Fuck. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for playing this game. I'm sorry for not being better, for being like this." 

"It's not your fault," he said as he tested the waters by placing his other arm around her waist as well. She tried to make herself smile, but even Alistair could see it was forced and he dropped his arms, letting go off her. 

"Isn't it? I didn't choose to be a mage, I didn't choose to spent my developmental years in a comfortable prison, I didn't choose to have it drilled in my head that I'm a fucking Blight," she rambled on and roughly ran a hand through her hair, ignoring any loose strands she pulled out, "But I chose to hurt you. No one made me treat you like shit. I did that. Regardless of magic or Blights or Circles." 

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, more to his shoulder than to her. 

"Shit, Ali, I treat you like this and you apologize? You're not in the wrong here." 

"I'm the one who thought that, that I'd change something." Now it was his turn to run a hand through his hair, then he rubbed at his eyes, as if he had only just woken up. "I saw you with Leliana and Zevran and I still chose to catch feelings." 

She couldn't stop herself from harshly replying with, "At least you have feelings." 

"Stop saying you don't have feelings. You do," he said with a grimace. Nirvana didn't like that expression on him, it was dangerous, but it also didn't suit him and his usual cheer- at least in comparison to party members like Morrigan and Sten. "I've seen you pissed, and upset, about your friend. You're happy when you talk about him. When you talk about your mother. You love them." 

She could discern what he was saying. It made her shake her head, she wanted to do it until she was dizzy but she stopped herself. "I can't love you, Ali." 

"Can't or don't want to?" He said incredulously, as if it was inconceivable that she didn't have the full range of emotions he possessed. He had enough emotions for the both of them two times over. 

"Afraid to." She finally said in a small voice. 

The shock on his face was almost enough to make her laugh or take the two words back, which she wasn't sure. He sounded as if he was close to laughing himself when he asked, on the edge of hysterical, "Why? Are- you're not afraid of me, are you?" 

"No, I'm afraid of water and Templars," she said with forced cheer. 

"You're not afraid of me even though I was trained as a Templar?" 

"I- Yes, I'm afraid of you," she frowned at the admission she didn't mean to let escape her lips. Quickly, she added to lighten the mood, "Even though you're basically a huge mabari puppy." 

He laughed, then sobered up and said, "I can wait for you." 

"Wait for what?" 

With a shrug, he said, "For you to change your mind. But if you want to stay with Leliana or Zevran, then I'll be happy for you." 

"You sound so confident." 

"You inspire it. I just want you to be happy, I know you can be. It'd make me happy." 

Suddenly, she wanted to kiss him. She had wanted to for awhile, but now the desire to kiss him silent was overwhelming. Instead, she shook her head and turned to walk back to camp. Alistair followed behind, the sound of his boots on the dusty trail distracting her from acting on stupid impulses. The light brush of their hands against each other's as they walked in silence brought her focus back to kisses she knew she would regret. At the camp, she let herself briefly take his hand in hers, and he gave hers a gentle squeeze, cutting off any coherent thoughts she would have shared. At last she said, "Good night, Ali." 

"Good night, Nir."


End file.
